


In Want of a Wife

by creativityobsessed



Category: 30歳まで童貞だと魔法使いになれるらしい | Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! (TV)
Genre: 5 Things, 5+1 Things, Aromatic spectrum, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Multi, background Kurodachi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29695626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativityobsessed/pseuds/creativityobsessed
Summary: Urabe has the perfect way to avoid work functions - just say he needs to stay home with his wife! But when a new chief is hired, and he invites partners along, it gets much harder for Urabe to avoid going. Of course, that wouldn't be a problem... if he hadn't been lying the whole time.Or, Five times Urabe lies about having a wife.
Relationships: Adachi Kiyoshi/Kurosawa Yuichi, Urabe Kengo/Original Character
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19
Collections: CheriMaho White Day Gift Exchange 2021





	In Want of a Wife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ax100](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ax100/gifts).



> Please note that I've had to take a few liberties with Japanese work culture for this fic to work. Just assume Toyokawa is one of the weirdest companies in Japan.
> 
>  _Nijikai_ does not translate particularly well. It is an after party for something like what happens in episodes 3-4, usually at a different bar, and spouses are sometimes welcome.
> 
> Thanks to [unacaritafeliz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unacaritafeliz) for helping me work out the kinks on this one, and for the summary cause I suck at summaries.  
> Thanks also to Posty and Funya for reading and hyping because writing in a vacuum is hard.

1.

The first time Urabe Kengo lies about having a wife is a few months after his thirtieth birthday. He’d expected to reach thirty a virgin, after coming to terms with his asexuality several years before. What he hadn’t expected was that the rumors of magical powers for thirty-year-old virgins would turn out to be true. He’s slowly been adjusting to having the ability to read others minds, and so far it’s all been things he really _doesn’t_ want or need to hear. He doesn’t need to hear Kurosawa from Sales thinking about how cute Urabe’s junior, Adachi is, or Kisaragi from upstairs worrying about whether she’s going to get fired, or _any_ of the awkward things that he accidentally hears in the elevator on his way to work. But today, for the first time ever, he’s finally overheard something useful.

Tomorrow is the company’s yearly retreat. They always hold them at some Onsen not too far away, and there’s always way too much time spent in the baths, and Urabe is far too uncomfortable looking at his coworkers’ bodies, and so he has done his best to get out of it every year since his very first one. It’s always difficult - these retreats aren’t exactly _mandatory_ , but it really looks bad to not go. 

And so, he steels himself for the most awkward conversation of the year as he goes to hand his latest assignment in to the Chief. He’d told him a week ago that he wouldn’t be coming, but he knows the Chief will take every conversation as an opportunity to change his mind, just like every year before.

“Chief, the reports you asked for,” Urabe says, handing them over. Chief looks up from his computer.

“Ah, Urabe, thank you. Listen, are you sure I can’t convince you to come with us this year? It’s a lot of fun,” Chief asks, standing and clapping him on the shoulder. Urabe tenses, waiting for the flood of thoughts. Sure enough, _He never comes, it’s so strange. If he had a wife, or kids, maybe I could understand it, but he’s all alone, why does he never come?_

“I really can’t, Chief, I’m sorry,” Urabe protests, shrugging a little to get the man’s hand off of him. Chief has always been a little more touchy than Urabe is comfortable with.

“You never can, huh. Some conflict…?”

Urabe pauses. Technically, the man did give him the perfect excuse. What could it hurt to tell a little white lie?

“Yes sir, you see it always seems to fall on my wife’s birthday…” Urabe trails off and lets the Chief fill in the rest.

“Oh! I see! A demanding woman, is she?”

“Uh, yes sir, she keeps me on my toes,” Urabe adds an ingratiating smile, and feels a little thrill of excitement at the way the man’s entire demeanor changes. 

“I understand,” he says, whispering conspiratorially, “Mine is quite the taskmaster too, you know. Can’t tell anyone about her in case they start thinking I can’t keep control of my own household!”

Urabe’s smile has become rather fixed, but he nods along, grateful that the Chief is at least taking the excuse. A few moments later, the Chief lets him go, and Urabe slouches his way back to his seat.

The rest of the day goes unexpectedly well, the Chief giving him sympathetic looks throughout the day. Urabe finds himself wishing that he’d known to make this excuse earlier, if it was going to make getting out of the company retreat this easy. He makes a note on the calendar in his phone, so that in the future when he makes the excuse he can phrase it correctly - while it’s always around this time, the retreat is always over a weekend, so the dates change, and sometimes he’ll have to say that they’re celebrating over the weekend rather than calling it her actual birthday. But having a ready excuse for the rest of his career feels amazing.

He’s so excited that on his way home he absently gets on a much busier train than he usually does, and the crowd pressing against him lowers his mood significantly. There are far too many conflicting thoughts running through his head, and it’s giving him a headache. He grits his teeth, and focuses on a woman about his age to his left who is scrolling through something on her phone. Usually such activities deaden the active thoughts someone is having.

Her voice is light and musical, and it actually relaxes him a bit. He unclenches, as she mentally goes through the rest of her night - boring as hell, but that’s what he needs right now, since the other option is five voices at once.

_I should pick up dinner, I’m running a little late_ , she thinks, _and I really wanted to change before Mahotsukai Anonymous…_

_Before what?_ Urabe thinks.

_Oh! Another magic user!_ The woman he’d been focusing on looks up, searching the faces around her and locking eyes with Urabe, who hasn’t been able to stop staring. _That’s quite rude, you know. But perhaps you’re still new._

The woman looks around as a stop announcement is made, and then looks back at Urabe.

_I’m getting off in two stops. Follow me._ Then she shifts a little to her left, breaking the contact.

Urabe is flabbergasted. In the whole three months of having this magic, he has _never_ run into anyone else who had it. It hadn’t occurred to him that if someone else _did_ have the magic, then they’d be able to have conversations that way. 

Two stops later, Urabe stumbles off the train after the woman in a daze. It’s only a few more stops to his place anyway, not that he’s thinking about that right now.

“How long?” she asks, waiting for him to catch up with her after extricating himself from the press of people inside the train.

“How lo- Oh. Three months? Give or take.”

“Mm, I thought you looked new. Well, I’m fairly new myself, it’s only been about a year now,” she says, “My name’s Mori Amaya by the way. Nice to meet you.” She doesn’t even pause for a polite bow.

“Urabe, Urabe Kengo,” he says, running a few steps to catch up. “Wait, where are we going?”

“I gotta pick up some dinner, you hungry?”

“I- well I was going to go home, but-”

“Are you free tonight?”

“What? Why?” Urabe rushes forward to stand in front of her, because this woman seems like she’s never going to stop, and he’s having a surprisingly hard time keeping up. 

“Look, think about it, okay?” she says, sidestepping him, “We both know that being a virgin at thirty isn’t that uncommon. Just the fact that we happened to run into each other should tell you it’s way more common than anybody thinks. So, a few of us have put together meetings. Kind of a support group, if you will. I’ve never seen someone who needs it more than you do. You’re coming.”

“I- but-” he sputters but she just takes off back down the street, detouring to a truck selling bento and onigiri. 

“But what if I had somewhere to be?” he asks, as she hands him a karaage onigiri, “Wait, I can-” he reaches for his wallet, but she’s already off again, unwrapping her own onigiri as she’s going. 

“Do you?” she asks with her mouth full, not even turning around.

He has to admit he doesn’t, and so, ten minutes later, he finds himself outside an unassuming apartment on the third floor of a nearby building.

“Is this your place?” he leans over to ask.

“Mm? No.”

She rings the bell, and two minutes later a large balding man opens the door.

“Ahhhh Mori, welcome, welcome. And who is this?” 

“This is Urabe Kengo, new magic user. Urabe, this is our host for tonight, Shiro Mikio.”

“Thank you for having me,” Urabe says with a shallow bow. 

“Come in, come in, Yasuko is just putting Shizuko to bed, so do be quiet,” the man puts a finger to his lips, before backing into the apartment.

“I thought you said this was a support group for magic users?” Urabe leans over to whisper to Mori. 

“Shizuko’s adopted,” she whispers back.

“But… they’re married?”

“And?” she asks, eyebrows raised as if daring him to say there was something wrong with that.

“Nothing,” Urabe admits, “I’m just surprised.” He’d heard of such things, of course, but never seen any evidence that it was real anywhere but the internet. 

“Look,” she says, leading him into the living area where several teacups have been set out. “I, and some other people who will be here tonight, are asexual. Do you know what that means?” Urabe meets her eyes, shocked that she’s talking about it so openly.

“I-” Urabe hesitates. He’s never actually come out to anyone before. Still, this woman is clearly okay with it, if she’s identifying as asexual herself. “I’ve never met anyone else who is, so far as I know, but I am too.”

She smiles widely. “Good. That’ll help.”

The night passes quickly after that. Four more people arrive, one after the other, and they seem to be from all walks of life. The oldest, a grandmotherly woman, pulls out her knitting immediately, and Urabe is too shy to ask her what she’s working on. Once everyone is there, Shiro’s wife comes in to say hello, but then excuses herself. They pass around tea and snacks, and chat about the things that have happened in their lives in the past few weeks. There’s less discussion of magic than Urabe expects, but it does come up occasionally, and it feels weirdly freeing to hear it talked about openly. Urabe doesn’t say very much, though he does introduce himself when asked. 

After a few hours, the evening draws to a close, and Shiro takes Urabe aside.

“Listen, how’re you doing?” he asks quietly, “It’s probably overwhelming, right? You said you’d never met anyone else before?” Urabe nods

“Yeah, yeah, just me. But. I’m okay, I think. It’s nice getting to talk about it.”

“Good! That’s good. Look, we meet every couple of weeks, do you think you’d wanna come back?”

Urabe thinks for a minute. The group was nice, and honestly, he could do with more friends outside of work.

“Yeah,” he says finally, “I think I’d like to try one more time.”

“Wonderful!” Shiro says with a wide smile, “Same time, two weeks from now. Same place. We’ll be happy to have you.”

Urabe says his goodbyes, and heads home for the evening, tired, but surprisingly happy to have found new friends.

2.

Over the next few years, Urabe finds that having the white lie about his “wife” at the ready is very freeing. He doesn’t use it often - for a while, he uses it only for the company retreat, which ends up falling on or near the same dates every year, despite Urabe’s fears that Chief will move it to make sure he comes. The fourth year, a nearby colleague comments that it’s strange Urabe is so devoted to his wife on her birthday each year, but never talks about her otherwise, so Urabe resolves to bring her up casually at other times too. Still, Urabe can’t stop worrying about it, now that someone has pointed it out.

And so, when he finds out that Adachi will be turning thirty a virgin soon, he comes up with the _perfect_ plan to get himself an ally in the office. He will make sure Adachi overhears him _thinking_ about having a wife, and then any time someone in the department suggests he’s lying, Adachi will back him up. No one would ever think that he might be lying in his thoughts. And sure, that would mean depriving Adachi of the support of Mahotsukai Anonymous, since Urabe could never admit to being a magic user himself, but given the way that Kurosawa’s thoughts have gotten increasingly desperate over the last month, it seems pretty likely that Adachi won’t be a magic user for too much longer. The only flaw in the plan is that Adachi isn’t the gossip that, say, Rokkaku is, but Urabe is _not_ going to wait seven years for Rokkaku to turn thirty. Besides, Rokkaku might not even be a virgin now, much less seven years from now. 

The opportunity to enact this plan presents itself only two weeks after Adachi’s thirtieth birthday. The Chief had asked him to do a bit of data compilation and suddenly moved the deadline a week earlier. It would mean staying almost all night to work, rather than going to the Mahotsukai Anonymous meeting as he’d planned, and he just plain doesn’t want to do it. So, he composes his thoughts carefully, pushing away anything to do with Mahotsukai Anonymous and being a magic user, and then goes to dramatically slump in the chair next to Adachi.

Adachi glances sideways but doesn’t turn, clearly trying to avoid taking on more work. _Sorry dude,_ Urabe thinks, before sliding over and carefully stepping lightly on Adachi’s toes. 

_Ah, my wife will be so upset if I cancel our wedding anniversary at the last minute,_ he thinks, keeping up the dramatics with his face. Might as well properly sell it after all. He glances over to find Adachi watching.

_Oh, shit!_ Adachi thinks, and Urabe knows he has him.

“Adachiiiii,” he whines, laying it on thick.

“Um… would you like me to do it?” Adachi says, and Urabe can tell he doesn’t mean it, but he hands over the files immediately, and thanks Adachi profusely.

A few hours later he finds himself retelling this story to Mori as they slowly make their way towards the door of the Shiro apartment. The rest of the Mahotsukai Anonymous group have already filed out, saying their goodbyes, and Urabe and Mori are the last to leave. He pauses as they get to the door, to say goodnight to Shiro and thank him for hosting again, and then continues out of the building with Mori.

“I feel kind of bad, you know?” he says after a few moments of silence, “I mean, Adachi is always happy to help, I don’t feel bad about giving him the work. But a group like this might have been good for him. But...” he looks over at Mori, walking next to him in the light of the streetlamps, on the way to the train station. She’s watching him, quietly, attentively, and he has the sudden realization that this is the first time he’s felt like someone was _really_ listening to him in a long time. He loses his train of thought momentarily.

“But?” she prompts.

“But I guess I’m a little selfish. I kind of want to keep this group to myself, you know? And besides, now that he has powers, he’s gonna overhear Kurosawa - he’s star of the sales department at work - he’s gonna hear Kurosawa has a crush on him.”

“Oof, I bet this Kurosawa will be embarrassed when he finds out,” Mori comments.

“Yeah. I pushed Adachi a little before his 30th to find someone, and did everything but tell him the urban legend was true, cause how do you admit that, you know? Much as I’m annoyed at having heard a _lot_ about Kurosawa’s crush over the years, I felt kinda bad for him. Knowing that he was about to get found out and it wasn’t even his fault.”

“Do you think Adachi will reject him?”

“You know, I don’t know. Adachi is shy as hell, he doesn’t even _think_ about his own wants, so I’ve had a hard time getting a read on him. If he likes men, though, I doubt he’ll reject him outright. Kurosawa’s a looker.”

Mori snorts. “A looker?”

“Just because I’m not sexually attracted to anyone doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate beauty!” Urabe protests, stopping in his tracks to turn and face her. It’s true, he appreciates beauty when he sees it.

“No,” she waves one hand in the air, covering her mouth with the other as she laughs, “I just haven’t heard anybody call someone a ‘looker’ in a really long time.”

“Oh. Right,” Urabe says, smiling to cover his embarrassment. The rest of the walk is silent, though not awkward, and when they split to wait for separate trains, Mori gives him a beautiful smile.

3.

After the winter holidays, life settles into something at least resembling normal for Urabe. He goes to work, comes home, and attends Mahotsukai Anonymous every other week. Even Adachi and Kurosawa seem to have figured themselves out. The months pass slowly, and in March the Chief announces his retirement. Urabe doesn’t particularly care, one way or the other, since they’ll just hire a new chief whose job will be to push work onto Urabe, same as the last one, but it makes for some small amount of excitement around the office. The man they hire to replace him is young, and has a strict but mostly fair approach to management that Urabe appreciates.

Soon after the new Chief starts, someone suggests a welcoming party. Urabe isn’t around for the beginning of the conversation, but he suspects Rokkaku had something to do with it, because he comes into the break room to the sound of Rokkaku excitedly pleading with the Chief as the man gathers his lunch from the fridge.

“Please, sir, it would be so fun, and it would be a chance for you to get to know all of us, and us to get to know you! Everybody could bring dishes, and--”

“Thank you, Rokkaku, I’ll consider it,” he says, but Rokkaku is undeterred.

“I know people are busy, but if you plan it enough in advance, people can plan around it, I mean, I know Kurosawa is very in love with his girlfriend, but I’m sure he could get her to let him come to a work event for one evening.”

Urabe snorts. Kurosawa and Adachi have been dating for some four months or something now and Rokkaku still thinks Kurosawa is head over heels for some unknown girl.

“Why not just invite partners along?” he mutters quietly, but not quietly enough, because Rokkaku swivels around to look in his direction.

“What a _wonderful_ idea,” Rokkaku gushes, “We could finally meet Kurosawa’s special girl! Oh, and Urabe, you _have_ to bring your wife, you’ve told us all so much about her, I would love to meet her!”

Urabe opens his mouth to protest, but the Chief speaks first.

“You know, that might be the most interesting idea I’ve heard all week. I’ll think about it,” he says, waving a wooden bento box as an excuse, and walking away. Urabe watches his retreating back with a sinking feeling. 

“Thanks for the idea, Urabe! I think he might actually do it!” Rokkaku is so energetic it’s tiring, and Urabe does his best to brush him off, but Rokkaku will not be brushed. He slides into a chair next to Urabe at a lunch table, chattering away as he unwraps the bento box he’d just bought. Urabe’s eyes drift over to the table where Rokkaku would usually sit, with Kurosawa and Adachi, and he catches a grateful smile from Kurosawa. He sighs. Alright, he can put up with Rokkaku for one lunch.

“--what’s she like?” Rokkaku asks, and Urabe shakes himself out of his thoughts.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, what was that?”

“Oh I was just saying, your wife seems really cool! What’s she like?”

“I-” Urabe’s mind blanks. He’s never been asked to _describe_ his fictional wife before. How does one describe someone who isn’t real, anyway? But Rokkaku is looking at him expectantly and he has to say something.

“Well, she’s pretty. I’ve always thought she was pretty. She’s smart, she works as a…” he pauses. What’s a real job that someone married to him would do? “A…” Wait, what does Mori do? That could work. “A teacher. She teaches high school students, so, you know, she’s pretty strong-willed. Has to be with the way those boys try to jerk her around. And she’s opinionated, you know? Always interesting to talk to her.”

“Wow, I can tell you really love her,” Rokkaku comments, around a mouthful of rice.

“Mm, thanks,” Urabe replies, and he starts shoveling food in his mouth, thinking to himself that if it had been anyone else his performance probably wouldn’t have passed muster, but this is Rokkaku after all.

Sure enough, a few days later an invitation email is sent out to everyone in the company: The new chief will be hosting a company social event. Not a potluck, but- Urabe groans. Partners encouraged. _No other company in the entire country would do this. Why?!_ He thinks. He looks over towards Kurosawa, who is now fending off Rokkaku’s enthusiastic pleading for him to bring his “girlfriend.” Why on earth did Rokkaku have to _hear_ his suggestion, much less back him up? 

Of course, what’s worse is that this now means Urabe has to produce an actual wife, or admit he’s been lying this whole time. He hardly knows anyone outside of work and Mahotsukai Anonymous - well, technically he knows his sister but that would be very weird and _gross_. He could maybe advertise online? But how would he even go about that? Besides then he’d have to explain to a _stranger_ why he’s lying to work about having a wife and he definitely doesn’t want to do that.

He stews over the dilemma all afternoon, and all the way to Shiro’s place for Mahotsukai Anonymous that night. When it comes around to his turn to share what he’s been doing for the last few weeks, it all comes out. Mori is the only one who has the whole story, so he tells the whole thing, from lying to the previous Chief about having a wife to get out of going to the company Onsen retreat, to using his “wife” to get his subordinates to do his work for him, and now to the strange, partners-invited party. 

“So now, because of a tiny lie that wouldn’t have mattered in _literally any other company I’ve ever heard of_ , I have to come up with someone to pretend to be my wife in a week, or… I don’t know...” he ends, trailing off. The whole room is staring at him by this point and he ducks his head.

“Sorry. That was a lot, and I know it sounds really bad but I didn’t mean anything by it when I started out, I swear.”

“Well…” Shiro says, breaking the silence eventually, “You say you used Mori as the… person you described when your coworker asked?”

“Ah, yes,” Urabe says, realizing how that sounded too. He scrambles to his knees and touches his forehead to the floor, “I am so sorry for using you like that, Mori, I’m just so bad at making things up on the spot and I panicked, I should not have done it.” He waits without looking up. 

“That’s alright,” she says, after a few moments, “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

Urabe breathes a sigh of relief and sits up, just in time to catch Shiro nudging Mori with his knee. She coughs and then glares back at Shiro.

“You know,” Shiro says, ignoring her to look back at Urabe, “Mori could pretend to be your wife. Since you’ve already based what you’ve said on her, she wouldn’t have to pretend to be someone she’s not, just… pretend to be married to you. And if there’s anything you happened to say to someone that you’ve forgotten, since you both have the magic you could communicate with her without anybody knowing. It’s the perfect solution really.”

Urabe blinks a few times. It’s not a solution he would have thought of, but… what Shiro says makes sense. He shifts his gaze over to Mori’s face, and really looks at her. Her soft brown eyes meet his, the ends of her fringe skimming over the top of them, and… yes, he could pretend to like her for an evening. 

“I…” he starts, unsure how to ask the question he knows he needs to ask, “Would you…?”

“I mean,” she pauses too, clearly feeling just as awkward about this as he is, “If you need me to, I suppose… it couldn’t hurt. Just this once?”

Urabe smiles gratefully and nods at her. 

“Thanks, for… for helping me out. Maybe after, we can…?” Urabe is having trouble coming up with complete sentences, and it doesn’t make sense, _why_ is it suddenly so awkward to talk to Mori?

After that the talk moves on to someone else, and Urabe takes several deep breaths, wondering why his heart is speeding so fast. Eventually, the meeting devolves into smaller conversations, Shiro going to sit next to the grandmotherly woman who insists on being called Obaa-chan by the entire group, while Sawatari and Yoshino retreat to a corner to talk baking. After a few moments, Mori scoots over to sit next to Urabe.

“I’m sorry-” he starts at the same time as she begins to say something. He gestures for her to go ahead and she nods with a small smile.

“I was just going to ask whether we should exchange Lines. You know, so we can coordinate?”

“Coordinate?” Urabe asks.

“I don’t know when this party is yet. And,” she pauses, licks her lips nervously, and then looks up at him, “Well, as your wife I’d know what you were wearing and could match you. Right?”

Urabe blinks. Yet another thing he would never have even thought of, and yet, it makes perfect sense. And would help with their cover. 

“Oh, I, uh. I guess?” He digs his phone out of his pocket and hands it over to her, open to Line. She adds her number, and then texts herself, before handing it back over to him. 

“There,” she says with a smile. He nods, and stuffs his phone back in his pocket.

“You know, we probably should practice not being so awkward,” she says after a few moments of silence. 

“Yeah, I’m just still getting used to the idea?” Urabe protests.

“Sure, sure, that makes sense.”

“I mean, how would I even… I don’t even know that many married people, you know? At least not them _and_ their spouses. The one couple at work is…” Urabe pauses looking for the right word to describe Kurosawa and Adachi’s relationship, “Well, mushy, to be honest. Though that may just be because I can hear everything they think.” Mori grins.

“Well every couple is different, you know? We don’t have to be like that.”

“Oh, thank God, I don’t know if I could,” Urabe says, letting out an unintentional laugh. Mori smiles wider, giggling in response. Before long they’re both laughing hard, even though nothing funny happened. Urabe can feel the awkward tension leech out as he laughs and feels himself sort of… settle into the spot beside Mori, until it feels right to be next to her.

The meeting wraps up, and Urabe and Mori leave together, walking to the train station as usual. They aren’t talking much, but the companionable silence feels nice. After a few blocks, Mori sidles close to Urabe and slips her hand into his elbow. He jumps.

_What…?_

 _We have to get used to touching each other, if we’re going to be husband and wife, you know._ She tells him silently, _I mean, there are plenty of old-fashioned couples who don’t touch much, but if you need to tell me something, you need to not look terrified to put your hands on me._ He can hear the littlest bit of teasing in that thought, and he wonders if he hasn’t been as good as he thought at hiding the strange awkwardness he’d been feeling.

_You definitely have not been good at hiding that, no,_ she thinks, and the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile.

_Ah, right, and you can hear everything I’m thinking. I’ve got to get used to that too._ He sends back. She raises an eyebrow.

_You’d think after nearly half a year, you’d remember._

_It’s not like I touch you all that often, you know!_

_Yes, that’s my point!_ She looks up at him, rolling her lips inward, clearly biting them to keep from smiling. He sighs.

_Okay, you have a point._ Hesitantly, telegraphing both physically and mentally, he lifts his other hand, and places it on top of the spot where hers rests in the crook of his now-bent elbow. Her fingers are chilled from the night air, and he rubs his palm against them. She smiles up at him, and he feels his heart squeeze, a legitimate _kyun_. She really is quite pretty.

Mori blushes and pulls her hand back, and Urabe suddenly is reminded that everything means _everything_. 

“Sorry! I didn’t mean- I mean, I meant it, but I wasn’t thinking…” he stutters out an apology, afraid he’s just ruined everything.

“No, no, it’s fine, I just… wasn’t expecting it,” she says, waving a hand in the air, “But I guess you’ll have to say such things if I’m pretending to be your wife, right? So I should get used to that too.” She gives him another small smile and he does his best to smile back. 

They continue in silence for a few moments, and Urabe tries desperately to think of something to say. 

“Maybe…” Mori says, hesitantly, “Maybe we should go on a practice date? You know just to get used to each other, just, like, out to dinner this weekend or something.”

“That’s not a bad idea!” Urabe can hear the excessive enthusiasm in his voice, but he feels like he has to do something to make up for putting her on the spot. 

They spend the rest of their walk to the train station planning a time and place to meet, though they carefully don’t touch each other again.

By the time the party rolls around the following week, Urabe is pretty sure he can manage pretending Mori is his wife without much issue. The new Chief rented out a space at the top of their building to hold the party, so it won’t seem weird that he’s arriving without Mori - he can just say that she’s coming from work - and all they really need is to spend an hour there and then they can say that they’re tired and need to go home.

Urabe heads up to the fifteenth floor a few minutes early, and finds himself a beer before choosing a convenient corner to lurk in. He actually feels lucky that so few of his colleagues have become friends - he truly can lurk in a corner undisturbed. After a few minutes, his phone buzzes, and he checks the screen: Mori is warning him that she’ll be a few minutes late. Ah well, that’s fine. They’d set 7:30 as a hard out time, where she would plead a headache and he would play the doting husband, insistent on taking her home and taking care of her. The later she gets here, the less time he has to pretend.

“Oh, Urabe!” Rokkaku yells from less than a foot away, and Urabe jumps, “Isn’t your wife coming? The spouse invitations were your suggestion, surely you convinced her.” Urabe waves his phone before shoving it back in his pocket.

“She’s running a few minutes late, that’s all. Said she’d be here soon.”

Behind him the door opens, and he and Rokkaku both turn to look. Mori stands in the doorway, wearing a nice dress that reaches her knees, and, coincidentally, matches the tie he’s been wearing all day.

“Ooo, I wonder whose wife that is,” Rokkaku leans over to Urabe to comment. 

“That,” Urabe says, taking a deep breath, “would be mine. If you’ll excuse me.”

He crosses the room to meet her, feeling the eyes of Rokkaku and all the rest of his colleagues on him. On impulse he leans in close to her ear. He can feel her stiffen, so he just whispers “Sorry, I thought it should look like I was saying something nice about your outfit or something.” He stands again, offers his elbow, and waits for her to make the next move. She reaches a hand out to take it.

“Hi,” _You’re right, probably good to sell it, and people are always looking when someone new comes in._ She smiles, and then gestures at his beer, “For me?”

“Oh, do you want it? I can get another one,” _I’ve drunk out of it, so you can say no._

 _It’s fine, I don’t mind._ “Thanks!” her smile is brilliant, and she drops her hand from his arm as she takes the bottle.

Urabe leads her over to the food table, and they each gather plates, before heading to a different corner than the one he left Rokkaku in.

“So these are your colleagues, huh?” she asks. He appreciates her efforts to make conversation, even though it’s just them and probably wouldn’t be necessary.

“Yeah. Nice people. Um,” he pauses for a moment, searching the room, and then points, “Ah, there, see that guy with the glasses? That’s the new chief, he’s throwing the party since he’s new here. Over there, that one by the food table is Hiroki. Then there’s… ah yes, the matching ties? Kurosawa and Adachi. And the man next to them, that’s Rokkaku. He, uh, he misses a lot.” 

Mori giggles and looks up at him, and he’s never really noticed how infectious her smile is, but he’s smiling back at her before he even realizes it. He continues pointing out colleagues, and occasionally they’re joined by one or another of the more friendly people in the company. The new Chief even comes over, though it seems like he’s making a point of going up to every one of his employees to introduce his wife and sing her praises. By the end of the night, Urabe has heard or overheard four of these introductions, and they’re different every time, but peppered with “oh did I tell you-” and “She’s so amazing, she-”. Urabe is starting to see why his suggestion of inviting spouses was taken so seriously - the Chief just wanted an excuse to show off his wife.

7:30 comes much faster than Urabe expects it to. Mori looks over at him, sliding her foot to come into contact with his. 

_Still want to follow the plan?_ She asks silently. He just nods a little. She lifts a hand to her temple, and rubs gently.

“You okay?” he asks, filling his voice with as much concern as he can muster.

“Yeah, it’s just been a long day, and I’ve got this _killer_ headache,” she says, “But I’ll be alright.”

“You always say that, and then you end up making yourself sick. Come on,” Urabe says, proud of himself for adding details when they hadn’t scripted any of this. He puts a hand on her shoulder, and takes her beer in the other hand, “Let’s go home, and then you can rest.”

“But your colleagues-”

“Will understand that you’re feeling sick!” Urabe insists.

“Oh, are you not feeling well?” Rokkaku says, running up from a nearby conversation, “Then you must go home, really, it was so lovely to meet you, but you have to take care of yourself, you know?”

“Yes, thank you, Rokkaku, I’ve got it if you don’t mind?” Urabe says, a little more ice in his tone than he really intends, but Rokkaku is blissfully unaware anyway. He hands Rokkaku the bottle of beer.

“Of course, goodnight!” Rokkaku exclaims with a wave. Urabe nods, and shifts his hands so that one is around Mori’s back, and the other on her elbow, guiding her out of the room. 

_Sorry about him,_ he thinks, _He really is like that with everyone._

_So I’ve gathered from your stories of his escapades with Kurosawa and Adachi. At least you managed to get rid of him._

Urabe leads her to the elevator, stepping away from the contact the moment the doors close.

“You okay?” she asks, “It seemed like you were having fun, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to stay longer.”

“Oh? Uh, I mean, it was fun…” Urabe trails off, thinking about the evening. Really they had mostly just talked to each other and it had been really _nice_ more than anything else. Urabe gets along fine with all his coworkers, of course, but he doesn’t particularly _like_ talking to them or anything. But for the first time he’d really, kind of enjoyed a work event, and that was all because… He looks up, to find Mori watching him.

“Sorry, it was fun, but it was definitely time to go home. I didn’t want to take advantage of your kindness, after all.”

“That’s okay,” she nearly interrupts him, “I had fun. You’re nice to talk to. Besides, there’s something a little thrilling about being in on the secret, you know?”

Urabe’s heart skips a beat at the compliment buried in her words and… well that’s inconvenient. He actually _likes_ her. That would explain the awkwardness. He takes a deep breath and sets his shoulders. At least he only just realized it now, after the need to touch her has passed, because he doesn’t know how he could possibly keep that from being in his thoughts every time he’s near her now. Then he swears at himself, internally, because _Damn, five seconds and you’re just turning into Kurosawa, now aren’t you?_

4.

It’s been a month since Urabe realized he has feelings for Mori, and he still hasn’t figured out what to do about it. Sure they’ve known each other for almost five years now, but how does he say “hey pretending to be your husband made me realize I’d actually kind of like being with you, so what do you say?” without it being really weird? Besides, he doesn’t even know if she likes men! Hell, he doesn’t know if she likes _anyone,_ he’d never asked about her romantic orientation, because, again, how do you ask about that without a) explaining that yes, the answer has very much to do with you because you’d like the answer to _include_ you, or b) sounding like a complete asshole? And maybe _she_ doesn’t even know! Urabe had always thought he himself was aromantic, before he somehow caught feelings for Mori. (He has since done his research and discovered that demi-romantic is a thing, and probably describes what he is.) He sighs, and lowers his head into his hands. He’s supposed to be doing work, but more and more lately he hasn’t been able to focus. He feels like he has to figure out how to say something so that he can move on with his life, but at the same time, she’d heard… well, a _lot_ before he realized he was having feelings, and _she_ hadn’t said anything, so maybe he shouldn’t. 

It doesn’t help that he hasn’t seen her since the night of the party. The Shiro family had a family emergency come up, and had cancelled the last two Mahotsukai Anonymous meetings - something about a grandmother in the country suddenly taking ill. The group had all sent their best wishes in the group chat, and then collectively decided that without any of them having a big enough space to fit everyone, they would just take time off from meetings until the Shiros came back. Urabe understands, of course, but he finds himself missing talking to Mori, weird as it is.

“Hey, Urabe! Did you hear that?” Tanaka leans over from his adjacent desk, startling Urabe out of his thoughts, “Kurosawa closed another big deal, that means drinks tonight!”

“Oh.”

“Do you think you can come tonight? I know you always say you have to get home to your wife, but we would love to have you! You could even tell her to meet us after, for _nijikai!_ ” 

Urabe thinks for a moment. It would be a decent excuse to see Mori. And he could blame it on his coworkers, say that they were _insisting_ she come since they’ve now met her. 

“Uh, I can text her and see, maybe we could come tonight.”

“Oh, Urabe, your wife is coming! I barely got to talk to her last time, that’s so great that she’ll be there tonight!” Rokkaku butts in, and Urabe has to fight to avoid rolling his eyes. 

“We’ll see, she might have, you know, parent-teacher conferences or something?” Urabe protests, and then he pulls out his phone, hoping Rokkaku will get the hint.

“Wow, does she have a lot of troublesome students? My class almost never had parent teacher conferences,” Rokkaku wonders aloud, but Urabe just ignores him. He doesn’t want to dig himself a bigger hole by being obviously ignorant of what Mori does. He also makes a mental note to ask her to talk about her job more the next time he sees her - or the next time they’re alone anyway.

He types and retypes his initial message, trying to decide exactly how to word it. He works in three different apologies, and then deletes one deciding that three is maybe pushing it. He frames it as entirely his coworkers’ fault, and then realizes that makes it sound like he wants her to say no, so he rewords it again, to try to make it clear that he wouldn’t mind if she says yes. Then, once he hits send, he tucks his phone into a pocket in his briefcase, hoping that will keep him from checking every five seconds. It’s the middle of the school day for her, she likely won’t even see it until later, and even then she might not answer right away. 

The minutes of his afternoon creep by, and when he goes for his afternoon break, he can’t help checking his phone, even though he keeps telling himself there won’t be anything. And so he feels a little giddy, when the screen lights up and he sees _Sure, text me where and when, once they decide._ It’s such a simple text, and he feels a little stupid for having spent so long on his invitation message.

_Thanks, and I’m sorry again that this has become such a big thing,_ he texts back. She must be near her phone because almost immediately the typing bubble comes up.

_Of course! I don’t mind pretending._

Urabe feels a little spear of pain go through his heart. She doesn’t mind “pretending.” Does that mean she would mind if it were real? If she knew he had feelings? He sighs and pockets his phone, shoving those thoughts away. They’re not helpful, and if he fixates on them it’ll only be harder to avoid her hearing them later.

The day passes quickly then, and Urabe finds himself at the first izakaya, discussing where to go next before he’s even managed to get his thoughts under control. The chatter around him is incessant, and he feels overwhelmed between that and the unending noise of stupid _feelings_ in his own head. Finally, the people moving on to the next place choose one, and he excuses himself to the bathroom, pulling out his phone. He quickly inputs the address and tells Mori to meet them there in twenty minutes. Then he splashes water on his face and takes a few deep breaths. He can do this. He can hide his feelings from Mori for _one evening_ so that their friendship doesn’t become even more awkward.

Mori is standing outside the second Izakaya as they approach, and she gives Urabe a big smile that makes his heart squeeze. He was wrong, he _can’t_ do this. But it’s too late now, because she’s taking his elbow and he shoves the entire rest of that thought away before she can hear it. 

“Hi,” she says, and she sounds a little breathless.

“Hello,” he replies, with a curt nod.

_Are you okay?_ She asks silently.

_Yeah, I just usually don’t do this kind of thing. They can get really loud, and it’s overwhelming._ It is very difficult to not let her hear his own typical inner monologue, congratulating himself on coming up with an excuse that is both true and not entirely true at the same time, but she doesn’t acknowledge it so he assumes he succeeded.

“Shall we?” he asks, gesturing for her to go through the door before him, and she untangles her hand from his arm. He breathes an internal sigh of relief.

The relief is not very long-lasting, however, because the tables are really smaller than they should be for the eight people who decided to continue to _nijikai_ plus their partners, and Urabe finds himself with his knees pressed up against Mori’s. He schools his thoughts carefully, and focuses on taking in the conversations around him. Eventually the topic turns to the upcoming Golden Week holiday.

“Yeah, we’re going to take the Shinkansen up to a nice resort that my family used to frequent a lot,” Kurosawa says. 

“Wow, you’re such great friends that you’re even spending Golden Week together? I hope someday to have a friendship as good as yours, Senpais!” Rokkaku says enthusiastically from across the table. Mori’s eyes flick up to meet Urabe’s and her mouth shifts a little in the way it does when she’s trying to stifle a laugh. She looks pointedly over to where Kurosawa’s arm is, his hand clearly resting in Adachi’s lap under the table, and then back to Urabe. Urabe just shrugs.

_He’s_ real _oblivious, somehow he still hasn’t figured it out. I honestly don’t know how._

“How about you two?” Kurosawa says, turning to them. Mori smiles and takes a sip of her beer.

_Did you put in to have that week off?_ She asks him as she’s drinking.

_Yes._

“Oh we’re going on vacation too! Not too far, but we wanted to do something since my birthday is--”

“A month away!” Urabe jumps in, realizing where she’s going with this, “You know it’s always around the company retreat, but it’s harder for both of us to get time off around then, plus her mother always wants to see her, so we, uh, we take Golden Week to celebrate her birthday instead.”

_Sorry!_ He adds mentally, _I’ve been using my “wife’s” birthday to get out of the company retreat for years, and it’s not until June._

Mori takes a deep breath and puts on a smile.

“That’s right. Anyway, I’m really looking forward to it, it’s been a while since I’ve had time off,” she says, shifting in her seat so that she’s not touching Urabe anymore. He studies her face, but she’s turned back to her plate, picking at the karaage there. Did he do something wrong? That was the deal after all, that they would use the magic to communicate in case he needed to keep her from exposing his lie. He just hadn’t realized what she was going to say fast enough to stop her… but he probably shouldn’t have interrupted her. She’s mentioned before that her colleagues do that to her sometimes and it’s frustrating. He chews on his lip. Should he say something?

Hesitantly he reaches out a hand to touch her shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, and then adds mentally _I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted you._ She shrugs lightly, and he pulls his hand away.

“Yeah, it’s just been a long day,” she says, standing “I think I’m going to go home now, I have a little bit of lesson planning to do before tomorrow.”

“I’ll go too,” Urabe scrambles to his knees planning to follow her but she stops him.

“No, no, don’t let me keep you from spending time with your colleagues. You stay and have fun,” she pauses, and then, “I’ll see you when you get home, dear.” The endearment has ice in it and Urabe feels like it’s driving straight into his heart.

5.

After the night at the Izakaya, Urabe worries that his friendship with Mori will be ruined, but at their next meeting, two weeks later, nothing seems to have changed. She smiles at him from across the circle of padded poufs, and she walks with him to the train station after. Their conversation is a little awkward, but Urabe blames himself and his anxiety over what happened. He almost brings it up, desperate to know what he did to offend her, but before he can fully work up the courage she bids him good night and heads to her platform on the other side of the station. And so, life returns to normal, whatever that means, and if Urabe is a little anxious before every Mahotsukai Anonymous meeting, well, maybe he’s just afraid that he’ll screw up again.

Nearly a month later, at the end of May, the reservation sign-ups for the company retreat go around. Urabe overhears someone else talking about it first, one of the new people, he thinks from Accounting, talking to Adachi about how excited she is to go for her first time this year. Adachi looks a little uncomfortable at the conversation, and calls out to Urabe soon as he sees him.

“Hey, Urabe! Did you see? The company retreat sign-ups are out. Are you going this year?” Adachi asks.

“Oh, I uh, probably not, you know, my wife’s--”

“Oh you must not have seen then, the invitation says that partners are encouraged to come,” Adachi interrupts him, and Urabe freezes. Partners _encouraged_. No, no, no, no, no. He can’t ask Mori to do this, not after what happened at the Izakaya.

“Is that so…” he says, when he realizes that Adachi and the new girl have both been staring at him. He needs to get their attention off of him, so that he can think up a way to get out of it, without paying the deposit fee.

“Then, Adachi, are you…” Urabe starts to ask, and then remembers that he’s _not supposed to know_ that Adachi is dating Kurosawa. He’s surprised to see Adachi take it in stride, however.

“You know, we’ll have to talk it over, but I think we might, uh… Well, I shouldn’t say anything yet,” Adachi admits with a blush. Urabe raises an eyebrow. Adachi and Kurosawa coming out as an office romance would mean some serious paperwork. He’s not sure why they’d do it, since they could request to be roommates without raising suspicion. Well, raising Rokkaku’s suspicion, since everybody else basically knows. But, good for them. Far be it from him to judge them for deciding it was time to come out. 

“I see! Well, good for you, if that’s the decision you make,” Urabe says, “I have to get back to work.”

Urabe lets out a sigh of relief as he gets back to his desk, but the relief is short-lived. He can’t ask Mori to go on vacation with him, even to pretend. They’re not like that. She may not want them to _ever_ be like that. But he honestly can’t think of a way out of it otherwise. Illness would have to be last minute, and by that point he would have paid the expensive deposit, and wouldn’t be able to get it back, which seems silly if he already knows he’s not going to go. He pulls out his phone, and tabs over to Line. The messages from asking her to come to _Nijikai_ seem like forever ago, but they’re still there, the last thing they said to each other. He sighs and shakes his head. He can’t ask her. He puts his phone back in his pocket, and forces himself to go back to work.

A few days later, at the next Mahotsukai Anonymous meeting, the retreat is still on his mind, and he brings it up, asking for suggestions. He avoids Mori’s eyes as he’s talking, focusing on his teacup, on his hands, on _anything_ else. The room is silent for a few moments after he finishes, and then Shiro clears his throat. Urabe looks up to him just in time to see him nudge Mori next to him. 

“Mori has helped you before, hasn’t she? She could-”

“I couldn’t ask that of her, Mori has been too kind, and if she came on this trip, she’d… we… we’d probably have to share a room. I wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“I see,” Shiro says thoughtfully.

“I…” Mori starts, and Urabe looks at her properly for the first time all evening. She got her hair cut recently, he notices, and the new short length frames her face so well. He almost wishes he could see what it would look like with his hands cupping her face, and then realizes that that’s the first time he’s ever wanted to touch anyone romantically. He wonders absently if he wants to kiss her, but he doesn’t think so. He’d just really like to be allowed to touch her, casually, to hug her and feel her soft skin, and… now is not the time for such thoughts.

“I trust you,” Mori finishes eventually, “I can help you if you would like me to.” Urabe feels a little breathless at the thought of spending a whole weekend sharing a hotel room together, but he pushes that away to nod gratefully. 

“I… I would appreciate that. Thank you,” he says, finally. He sees Shiro grinning at him and has the momentary thought that Shiro somehow _knows_ that he’s caught feelings for Mori. 

The next day at work he signs up for a room with two double beds, for Urabe Kengo and Urabe Amaya. Somehow between now and June, he just has to learn how to protect his thoughts. 

He does not. The bus ride to the Onsen is longer than Urabe expects, and by the end of it he’s sore from the effort of keeping himself from touching Mori. It was particularly difficult once Mori fell asleep, her head lolling towards his shoulder. He leaned away as far as he could, and eventually jostled her on purpose to wake her up with an apology. 

But they have finally arrived, and Urabe stretches his legs before going to the side of the bus to gather their luggage. He made sure to make a note of which suitcase was Mori’s when they left this morning so that he could pick it up for her - surely if they were married he’d know it by heart already. He grabs both, and then leads Mori to their room. The door unlocks with a satisfying click, and he pulls it open.

He stops dead just inside the door, however, because instead of the double room he’d asked for, they’ve been given just the one bed. How can he explain this to Mori? How can he expect her to be okay with this? He turns to her, about to say something, when he spots Rokkaku through the door. 

“Oh, Urabe, how do you like your room? I noticed you accidentally signed up for a double, so I made sure to fix it when I was helping with the reservations! You wouldn’t want to sleep in a separate bed from your wife all weekend!” Rokkaku says, and Urabe just blinks. He would love to just strangle Rokkaku, well meaning as he is, but he knows that he has to keep up appearances. He just cannot think of anything to say.

“That’s my husband for you, such an airhead! Thank you for your help, Rokkaku, we’ll just get settled in now if you don’t mind,” Mori says with a smile, pulling the door shut behind her. Urabe can hear her exasperated huff the moment the door clicks shut.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice he’d switched the rooms, I’ll sleep on the floor I promise,” he says, reaching for her, and then realizing what he was doing and dropping his hand to his side. She pushes past him and looks at the bed - a nice big King size.

“It’s fine,” reassures him with a smile, “If you get too tired from not sleeping well on the floor your colleagues will surely notice. The bed is plenty big enough for both of us.”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t say it was fine if it wasn’t fine, Urabe,” she says, annoyed.

“Right.”

He brings the suitcases into the room, and sets hers up on the suitcase rack for her, before throwing his own on the bed to begin unpacking the nice outfit he brought in case there was something fancy - he doesn’t know what happens at these retreats since he’s never been to one after all.

“By the way,” she starts, hesitantly, and he stops moving and looks up, “We should be careful how we talk to each other, since your colleagues will be around us all the time. Maybe… if it’s easier…” she finally meets his eyes, “You could call me Amaya? Then you wouldn’t have to remember not to call me Mori, is all.”

“Oh,” Urabe says, wishing he could make his heart stop beating so damn fast, “I… I guess you’re right. Maybe you should call me Kengo, too?” Mori’s face brightens.

“Sure. Sounds good.” She smiles at him and _how is he supposed to avoid thinking that she’s pretty?_

The rest of the day is quiet, just an onsen visit for most of his colleagues, which Urabe begs off of, complaining of a motion sickness headache that he’d like to nurse in the privacy of his own room. Despite the lack of activity, the night comes far too soon and Mori goes into the bathroom to change, while Urabe reads a novel he brought along for distraction. 

“Bathroom’s free,” she says as she comes out, and he looks up to find her in silky soft pajamas, her hair down around her face, and he’s struck once again by the urge to touch her cheek. Instead, he grabs his own pjs - a set of track pants and t-shirt that seem almost plain in comparison to her nice ones - and locks himself in the bathroom. Maybe if he spends long enough in here, she’ll already be asleep and he’ll be able to resist the impulse to touch her because he won’t want to wake her.

Sure enough, by the time he comes out, the lights are out, and she’s rolled over on her side with her back facing him.

“Goodnight,” he whispers to her as he climbs into bed himself.

Halfway through the night, he wakes up to find Mori talking in her sleep. He smiles to himself, thinking how cute it is, and then he realizes the things she’s saying aren’t cute at all.

“No,” she mutters, “No, no please, don’t!”

“Mori?” he asks. She just twists in the sheets, and doesn’t wake.

“Mori?” he tries a little louder, but she’s still asleep. He looks at his hands. He has no idea if he will be able to see what she’s seeing if he touches her, but he has to get her awake somehow. She’s moving more and more in her nightmare, and he doesn’t like the scared look on her face. 

Decision made, he grabs her shoulder, intending to shake her, but instead images begin flashing behind his eyes, all featuring a large spider crouching over her, and about to bite her. The images kaleidoscope a little, going back and forth between a single large spider and a mass of tiny spiders about to overwhelm her. Is she afraid of bugs? He’s not sure, but either way, this is terrifying. Instinctively he tries to get between her and the spider, and then he realizes that none of this is real. He forces his eyelids open, and squeezes her shoulder to bring himself back to the present. Then he shakes her, perhaps a little harder than he would have to, but it’s difficult to keep himself from slipping back into the nightmare she’s having.

“Mori? Amaya wake up, you’re dreaming,” he says insistently, and finally, _finally_ her eyes flutter open and the spiders recede.

“Urabe?” she asks, blinking up at him. He pulls his hand away from her shoulder as if it were burning hot. 

“I’m sorry, you were dreaming, and I didn’t know how else to wake you.”

“That’s okay. I’m sorry if I woke you, I didn’t… I mean, I don’t have nightmares like this that often.”

“It’s okay, I…” Urabe pauses, unsure if he should say it, but then goes on anyway, “I wish I could help more. I could see, a little. That was… that was some dream.” She smiles faintly.

“Yeah. I’ve always been afraid of them? I guess.” She shivers and he reaches out a hand, but pulls back before touching her. She looks at his hand and then up at him. 

“Actually,” she says, her eyes back on his hand, “I’m… I’m feeling a little fragile after that, would you…” she trails off.

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” he guesses.

“No! I… could you just hug me? Please? My parents used to when I had a nightmare like that, they’d hold me until I fell back asleep and I just… I’m sorry, that’s weird, I know it is, forget I asked.”

“No!” Urabe rushes to say, “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Urabe tries and fails to think of something suave or at least cool to say, but he comes up with nothing, so he just lays back down on his side, holding his arms open for her. She blinks hard a few times, and he wonders if she’s crying but it’s hard to tell in the dark. Then she scoots closer, and snuggles herself up against his chest, her arms curled up between them. He wraps his arms around her.

“Thank you,” she whispers to him, and at the same time he feels a wave of… not even thoughts, just some kind of warmness coming from her. It feels lovely, like a long bath after coming in from a cold day, and he just closes his eyes and nuzzles his cheek against the top of her head, basking in its warmth.

The next morning, Urabe awakens alone in the bed, and Mori is sitting, already dressed, in the corner of the room reading a book. He expects the morning to be awkward, but Mori just acts like nothing happened. Urabe spends the whole weekend worrying about the consequences when it finally comes up, but it never does. They join in on activities with Urabe’s coworkers when necessary - Mori even seems to strike up quite the friendship with Adachi, often chatting with him at meals. The weekend is wonderful and terrifying all at once, because it just drives home how much he would like this… companionship with Mori to never end. At one point he’s talking with the Chief about how nice it is to come home and have someone to spend the evening with and he can imagine it so vividly that he briefly forgets that he’s making it all up.

“You know, I can tell you really love her,” the Chief comments, and Urabe catches himself smiling vacantly in her direction.

“I- Yeah. I guess I do,” Urabe admits. _And I can never do anything about it._

+1

It has been three months since the night he comforted Mori on the retreat, Urabe still hasn’t managed to figure out if she’d be willing to be a little less “pretend” about their relationship. He sighs. How is it even Adachi can figure out how to talk to Perfect Kurosawa but he somehow can’t even say the right thing to a woman he’s been actual friends with for more than five years now? 

“Urabe?” Adachi asks from behind him. Urabe startles out of his thoughts. 

“Yes, Adachi, how can I help you?”

“Can I… I’m sorry, but can I borrow you in Conference Room 2 please?” Adachi asks. Urabe nods, and stands to follow him.

Once in the room, Adachi turns back around and pulls a piece of cardstock out of a pocket and offers it to Urabe with a slight bow. He takes it and flips it over, curious.

_Adachi Kiyoshi_

_&_

_Kurosawa Yuichi_

_cordially invite you to their wedding_

Urabe’s eyebrows shoot up as he reads. There’s a date, a few weeks away, and a note that there will be a small reception. 

“It’ll be small,” Adachi says, “But we wanted our friends there. You’ve been a good senpai to me, and I would really appreciate it if you came. And you should definitely bring your wife, she’s lovely.” Urabe looks up, frozen. Yet another thing to ask Mori a favor for? He can’t. Not after the way the last one went.

Adachi just nods, and then heads back for the door, clapping him on the shoulder as he goes past.

_Maybe you could even ask her out for real this time. I think she’d say yes._

Urabe’s eyes go wide. Adachi knows? When? How? _How long?_

“Wait, Adachi,” he stands up to follow, but Adachi has already gone. Urabe decides not to follow, pacing around the conference room instead. Had he really been so obvious that _Adachi_ had noticed? Adachi, the man who keeps his head down and does his work without bothering anyone?

Not only does Adachi somehow _know_ but he thinks that Mori actually likes him. How would Adachi know? There’s no way, right? She’s been happy to help him from the start but she has always said that she’s “fine pretending,” that’s it. No matter how often she smiled at him, or tucked her hand in his arm, it _didn’t mean anything_ , because they were just pretending.

 _Yeah, but nobody was there when she asked you to comfort her after having a bad dream_ , a traitorous little voice in the back of his head said. And… that was true. He couldn’t really explain that away. Even if she doesn’t like him the way he likes her, she likes him at least enough that a hug from him was comforting. That’s a good sign. Right?

Urabe definitely needs a second opinion on this. He pulls out his phone, and finds Shiro’s number from their group chat. If anyone would know what Mori is thinking, it’s probably Shiro. He holds his breath as the phone on the other end rings.

“Hello?”

“Yes, Shiro, it’s Urabe, I was wondering if you could help me out.”

“What happened?” Shiro asks, concern in his voice.

“Oh, uh, nothing I just… had a few minutes that’s all. Listen, a couple of my colleagues are getting married, and they’ve offered me a plus one, and…” Urabe trails off, unsure how to word what he wants to ask.

“And?” Shiro prompts. 

“And I was thinking maybe I’d ask Mori… for _real._ ” Urabe asks.

“Is that so?” Shiro asks, amusement barely hidden.

“You knew?”

“Neither of you is good at hiding what you’re feeling,” Shiro tells him with a laugh.

“Wait, neither of us?”

“You should ask her, Urabe. I think she’d say yes.”

Urabe blinks a few times. Well, this wasn’t exactly what he was expecting from today, but it’s not an entirely unwelcome turn of events. 

“Oh. Okay, I guess I will. Um. Thanks,” he says.

“No problem. Anything else?”

“Uh, no. I gotta get back to work. Thanks for your help,” Urabe hangs up and chews on his lower lip for a moment. Even though Shiro seems sure, Urabe is still nervous. Maybe it would be best if he just does it. Today, before he loses his nerve. She should be staying late today, coaching the soccer club, so he could go to her school and… and what? How does he tell her he wants it to be real?

Flowers! Flowers are romantic. He can bring her flowers. He pulls up a list of nearby florist shops on his phone, and is immediately overwhelmed by how many different options there were. How should he know what kind to get Mori? He thinks maybe she’d mentioned a favorite flower, back before he’d realized he cared about her, but he honestly doesn’t remember what it was. But, her favorite color is red, so maybe if he just gets her red flowers, that would be okay. He taps his phone on his chin a few times, thinking, and then shoves it back in his pocket to go back to work.

That afternoon, he stops by the closest florist and picks out a bouquet of red and white carnations. Then, he takes the train in the opposite direction he usually would. He arrives at Mori’s school a little late in the evening, but she should still be here. He pauses at the school gates, and straightens his jacket and tie, before squaring his shoulders and heading for the field.

As he approaches, the students in their soccer uniforms gradually stop playing to watch him. Eventually Mori looks over, realizes who it is, and blows her whistle.

“Okay, that’s it for tonight, kids, go shower,” she calls, and then heads over to the edge of the field where he’s standing.

“What are you doing here?” she asks as she gets close. Urabe holds out the flowers.

“Um. These are for you?” he clears his throat and tries again, “These are for you.” She looks down at them and smiles, and then takes them and smells them with a smile.

“Thank you,” she looks up at him, that beautiful smile still on her face, “But what are they for?”

“Oh, um, right, I got another invitation to a thing that has you, I mean my wife, on it.”

“Is it urgent?” 

“What? No, it’s a couple weeks away.”

“Then…” she starts, and looks at him expectantly, but all words have vacated his head and been replaced by tiny lightning bolts of anxiety. 

“You didn’t have to come all the way down here just to ask me to be your pretend wife,” she tries again, and this finally shakes him out of his haze.

“I’m not!” he blurts out, almost interrupting her.

“You’re… not?” she asks, “Oh. Are you telling me you want a pretend divorce?”

“No!” Urabe shouts. He rubs a hand over his face, because this is going all wrong, “Just let me… I gotta… I’m bad at the words thing, you know?”

Mori’s mouth twists into a half smile, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I’m… I’m asking if, maybe, you don’t want to _pretend_ … anymore.”

“Oh,” she says, “You mean…”

“I mean, I like you. And, I like how well we work together, pretending, and I thought, maybe, it didn’t need to be pretend anymore. It could just be… us. Together. Like a date.” There. He finally said it. He holds his breath, almost without realizing it, because this could be the end of the best friendship he’s had in his adult life.

Mori looks up at him, the half smile turning into a brilliant grin.

“You know, I think I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Dear Ax,  
> I hope this is what you wanted! I have to admit, I was a little surprised at how this one came out myself, but apparently I have a lot of feelings about this? Idk, anyway, I hope you like it.


End file.
